Ivy's Revenge
by katakanadian
Summary: Ch.2 up. Frodo G needs some distraction. A little piece of Gardner family fluff.
1. Chapter 1

A/N - I felt inspired to start writing this story shortly after joining the FrodoHealers group and reading some of the discussions. They are a good place to seek inspiration and support for new writers. This story will include mention of many of Sam Gamgee's children who were often named after major characters in LotR. Usually names used are refering to the Gardner (Gamgee) children but I will try to keep it obvious when I am refering to their older namesakes.  
  
Here, for quick reference, are the names and birth years of all 13 kids  
Elanor Gardner 1421  
Frodo Gardner 1423  
Rose Gardner 1425  
Merry Gardner 1427  
Pippin Gardner 1429  
Goldilocks Gardner 1431  
Hamfast Gardner 1432  
Daisy Gardner 1433  
Primrose Gardner 1435  
Bilbo Gardner 1436  
Ruby Gardner 1438  
Robin Gardner 1440  
Tolman Gardner 1442  
  
This story takes place in 1433 so Frodo Gardner is ~10. Rose is pregnant with Daisy and the last 5 kids are nothing more than a few romantic notions ;)  
  
Disclaimer: I hated creative writing in school and never wrote anything for 20 years after graduation. Does that sound like someone who could invent these characters and locales? All belong to Tolkien.  
  
  
Ivy's revenge - Chapter 1  
  
Da! Daa! Fo...Fodo get ivy bad, gasped two-year-old Goldilocks as she rushed up the path to the front door of Bag End.  
  
That boy is getting to be as mischievous as Mr. Pippin, said Sam as he looked up from the weeds he was pulling, Well I do hope this time Ivy Bramble gives him what for. He won't stop teasing her until she does.  
  
Goldilocks was getting frustrated. Not Ivy Bambu...bo...Bambo. Fodo fall tee.  
  
Sam was on his feet in a flash and caught up Goldi as he raced down the path. What tree? Where? Is he alright? He shifted her to one hip as he paused at the gate, not sure which direction to go.  
  
Plum tee. Gaffer Spinger place.  
  
Is your brother alright? Sam almost shouted.  
  
Not know. Nora say run fast. Goldilocks began to cry. She was already exhausted from the long run home and now she was being squished as her father carried her, and he sounded awfully upset.   
  
Sam was starting to huff from the exertion of running uphill with a burden. Anxiety seemed to make his chest tight and he was forced to slow to a walk. He wondered why hadn't he heard anything. Shrieks of laughter from a nearby hole made him realize he probably did hear something and just thought it was more of the usual din of children's voices heard constantly in the Shire these days.  
  
Finally arriving at the back of the orchard where there was a line of plum trees, Sam was relieved to see Frodo sitting up and chatting with his big sister. Setting Goldi on the ground, Sam broke into a run again for the last few steps to Frodo's side.  
  
At a glance, he saw his shirtless squirrel of a son was covered in scratches and bruises, and one ankle was very swollen. Elanor had her sleeves buttoned down about her wrists despite the late summer heat.  
  
What happened? Sam went to hug his son but Elanor shooed him back.  
  
Don't touch him. Fro-bro landed in poison ivy, said Elanor with a glance over to the telltale leaves mingled in with less bothersome scrub at the foot of the plum tree. Leaves and broken twigs littered the ground.  
  
_Oh no. _Sam had had a couple of experiences with the nasty stuff himself as a child and knew that it could easily be spread to others unless everyone and everything that had touched it was thoroughly washed. Then he noticed that Elanor was holding Frodo's hand. Nora, honey, you shouldn't be touching him either... Oh nooo... Not you too!  
  
I had to help pull him out. I think I just got it on my hands and sleeves. He can't walk and I figured I should stay with him.  
  
Sam wanted to admonish his children for choosing such a foolish place to go climbing but for now he knew it was more important to get them home and washed up so the inevitable rash to come wouldn't be so bad. His arms were already cramped from carrying his youngest child but he would just have to endure a little more. Wait here. I'll see if I can borrow a blanket from Master Springer.  
  
A few minutes later, he was back with one and laid it out on the ground. Frodo-lad, is there _any_ part of you that didn't touch the poison ivy?  
  
My feet, I think. My ankle got caught in the tree when I fell and I landed feet up.  
  
You should have seen it, Da, giggled Elanor. All you could see was a shaking bush with his feet waving at the sky. Sam had to smile at the mental image.  
  
Well, son, I guess we'd better wrap you up good. Get on the blanket and I'll carry you in that. Sam then gathered the corners together to form a sack and slung it over his back with naught showing of little Frodo but his feet poking out like a baby kangaroo in its mother's pouch. Goldi trotted alongside. Elanor, run ahead and get some water heating for the bath.   
  
Once they were back at Bag End, Sam carried Frodo all the way to the bath room before setting him down.   
  
Sorry, Frodo-lad. Your bath won't be very warm since waiting for the hotter water will only let the rash to get worse. Careful. Put some socks on your feet before you pull your breeches over them.   
  
Frodo looked at the socks with disdain but did as his father said. He could barely get the one over his right ankle which was rapidly turning purple. He then pulled off his breeches and sat on the edge of the tub and tugged the socks back off before stepping in.  
  
Eee! That's cold! Do I have to? Frodo's eyes were pleading as he hovered over the shallow water. Maybe that wasn't really poison ivy. I don't have any rash.  
  
And you won't for a couple more hours yet. Now get in and wash everything from top to toes. I'll go see if there isn't enough warm water to at least wash your hair with. Sam got up and headed for the smial but stopped suddenly at the door and called out. Miss Elanor Gardner, have you washed your arms and face yet? Hop to it. And make sure Goldi gets washed too.  
  
TBC  
  
  
  
Thanks for reading. All reviews accepted gratefully.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N - this chapter contains some condensed direct or slightly modified quotes from The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien indicated by ~~~. I have not reread it so forgive me if I mess up something. If you find any canon errors, please do let me know and I will endeavor to fix it or at least post a disclaimer to such effect. If you haven't read The Hobbit yet, GO READ IT! There is so much delightful stuff in there that I had to cut even from the small quotes in this story.  
  
To my reviewers: A big thank you. You make my day. The plot bunnies are great though I don't know that I can think up stories worthy of anything more than dust bunnies. Anyone else out there feel free to use these ideas. Just don't forget to credit the plot bunny's parental unit.  
  
Last bit for now - Tolkien loved trees. Please don't kill any for unnecessary printouts of anything. Even recycled paper taxes the environment.   
  
  
  
Ivy's Revenge - Chapter 2  
  
Soon, despite much protest, Frodo was thoroughly soaked, shivering but clean. Sam poured a pitcher of warm water over to rinse him off then held out a robe for him. Frodo's shivering ended shortly after but he was still miserable as the throbbing in his ankle continued.   
  
C'mon Frodo-lad. You're going to lie down and put your foot up. Sam picked up his son and headed down the smial toward the room Frodo shared with his little brothers, Merry and Pippin.   
  
On the way they met Elanor who had changed into a swimming costume and was fidgeting madly as she fought the urge to scratch. Da, I'm taking Goldi down to The Water for a swim. It's so hot today and I'm starting to itch.  
  
All right, dear. Mind you don't scratch. For every minute you do, you'll itch two more, warned Sam. How is Goldi? Is she itchy?  
  
No Da. I'm pretty sure she never touched the ivy at all.  
  
Good. But first, I want you to run down to Widow Rumble's place and call your mother home. I have duties this afternoon but I want Someone here for Frodo-lad.  
  
Right away. She gave Frodo a much-hated pat on the head. G'bye, Fro-bro.  
  
  
  
Rose sighed as she looked in on her eldest son. He was lying flat on his back, wearing only short breeches: much of his skin was a blotchy reddish-pink. One hand was clutching the sheets, the fingers on the other drummed incessantly. His left foot was tapping a beat in time with his fingers. The right foot looked like it was a display of precious garnet perched up on a pillow. She walked in and sat on the bed. I came as soon as I heard. How are you doing, honey?  
  
Argh. I don't know how much more of this itching I can take without scratching.  
  
You will be fine, Rose said firmly. Just remember: for every minute you scratch, you'll itch two more.  
  
I know. I know. Da already told me three times, Frodo said sullenly.  
  
Well then, think about something else. Did you try reading?  
  
Yes, I did. I can't concentrate because I itch. I can't stand it. Nora went swimming as soon as she started itching. And that was only on her hands and face. She took Goldi with her. Ro-sis and Mer and Pip are playing at the Smallburrows' home. Da had to go off on some mayoring business as soon as you got back. And I have to lie here with this stupid ankle up for the rest of the afternoon, Da says. Frodo's voice was getting slightly whiny by the end of this little speech and his hands were starting to pinch and tap at his skin as he sought relief without really scratching.  
  
Rose took his hands and pressed them back onto the sheets with a stern look. Oh my poor baby.   
  
I'm not a baby! I'm almost as old as Nora.  
  
Rose smiled. And she is my biggest baby. She stroked Frodo's uninjured foot, smoothing the short curls. She wanted to gather him up in a hug but, from the look of the rash and scratches that covered most of his body, she thought it wiser to restrain her impulse. How about if I tell you a story?  
  
He smiled for the first time since his fall. Yes, please! Something about dragons this time. The weather feels like dragon's breath lately.  
  
Certainly. Let me get the Red Book. And NO scratching while I'm gone. **  
**  
  
  
Rose was grateful Frodo-lad had asked for a story from long ago. As she carefully lifted the great book out of the chest where it was kept she wondered when would be a good time to let the children read it for themselves. Of course they knew their father and his friends had been part of a great war but they were far too young to understand all the harrowing details in the stories they hadn't heard yet. Maybe in a few years.  
  
After checking that baby Hamfast was still asleep in his cradle, she took the book with her to the kitchen and set a tray on top that she filled with biscuits, fruit and milk. Carefully she took the loaded tray back to Frodo's room. By time she got there, her back was aching from the strain of holding the heavy weight out in front of her swollen stomach.  
  
Before starting into the story she helped Frodo-lad up to a semi-sitting position, shifting the elevating cushion under his ankle closer to the headboard and adding another so it would still be as high as his heart. She draped cool wet cloths over the worst rash areas, placed a plate of food in his lap and a glass of milk in his hand. Then she sat down in the rocker and propped the book open on the far side of her belly.   
  
Rose put on her best storytelling voice. This is a story about the famous Bilbo Baggins whose family built Bag End. The Bagginses were very respectable hobbits who_ never _did anything unexpected. She gasped suddenly as the baby gave a sharp kick as if to remind her that unexpected things had come to be expected of the residents of Bag End. You know, we are thinking of naming your next brother after Bilbo but I have a feeling this baby is a girl. Well, let's start at the beginning, shall we?  
**  
~~~  
**In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.  
~~~  
  
Mama, why would anyone think a hobbit-hole was a dirty nasty place? Of course it's comfortable, Frodo said with a look of puzzlement on his face.  
  
Rose smiled at the narrow scope of a child's world. While all her children had heard tell of many things outside the Shire, they still didn't realize that the rest of the world was scarcely aware of hobbits or their holes. Dear, I think Bilbo hoped that elves and big people and dwarves would also read his book so he wrote a bit concerning hobbits for their benefit. I find it interesting to see how he chooses to describe us. But if you like, I will skip ahead to where the real story begins.  
  
Yes please, needed Frodo. I want to hear about the elves and big people and dwarves and Gandalf and the dragon, not a bunch of boring hobbits.  
  
Rose raised an eyebrow at Frodo-lad's less than flattering assessment. Where do I begin...? Ah yes...  
  
~~~  
By some curious chance one morning long ago in the quiet of the world, when there was less noise and more green, Bilbo Baggins was standing at his door after breakfast smoking a long wooden pipe when Gandalf came by. Gandalf! If you had heard only a quarter of what I have heard about him, you would be prepared for any sort of remarkable tale.  
  
Good morning!said Bilbo. And a very fine morning for a pipe of tobacco out of doors into the bargain! If you have a pipe about you, sit down and have a fill of mine. Then Bilbo sat down on a seat by his door and blew out a beautiful grey ring of smoke that sailed up into the air without breaking and floated away over The Hill.  
  
Very pretty! said Gandalf. But I have no time to blow smoke-rings this morning. I am looking for a burglar to share in an adventure, and it's very difficult to find anyone.  
~~~  
  
Mama, if Bilbo's family was so respectable why would Gandalf want to talk to him about burglaring? interrupted Frodo.  
  
Oh my. I don't know. You'll have to ask your father that one.  
  
Ask me what? Sam said as he entered the room. He gave a quick kiss to Rose then sat on the bed by Frodo's foot. He mirrored Rose's earlier gesture of stroking the furry curls as he inspected the spread of bruising on the other foot.  
  
Why Gandalf wanted to talk about burglaring with Bilbo Baggins if he was such a respectable hobbit, said Frodo. Ma was just starting to read me the story of Bilbo and the dragon.  
  
Ah well, I guess this calls for a story that isn't in the Red Book. Bilbo didn't think it was necessary to write anything about his childhood but your namesake Mr. Frodo told me the story one time after I caught him using a new flower pot for baking bread.  
  
  
  
A/N - I haven't really started to write the rest of this story yet so it will be a while before I update. In the meantime, go read and review my other stuff. Pretty please!


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